


and tomorrow looked in

by Luxio_Nyx



Series: into a better shape [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Also Hammer is a dick, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Heart Problems Honestly, Gen, Palladium Poisoning, Parent Tony Stark, Timeline What Timeline, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, We make our own timeline here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxio_Nyx/pseuds/Luxio_Nyx
Summary: He thinks about the missions he still has to complete and morning flights over the ocean with his kids in his arms and on his back.He thinks about Yinsen reminiscing on dead men walking and the look on Rhodey’s face when they found each other in the desert.He thinks about dying, about dying again and staying dead, and feels each breath catch in his lungs like it is the last one he will ever take.Or:Tony faces palladium poisoning, government intrigue, and grudge matches of epic proportions, all while being a single father.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all and welcome back!
> 
> Right, so, a few notes before we get started. 
> 
> First, this is the first multi-chapter fic in the series and will deal with the events of Iron Man 2. 
> 
> Second, as with the last fic, the twins are now three. Just to sort of clear things up about the timeline so far: Tony became Iron Man in late 2008, and found the twins in the spring of 2009 while he was still getting the hang of things. This fic picks up in May 2010, just like the actual Iron Man 2 does. Yay for timelines!
> 
> Finally, as with the other fics so far, we are going to be seeing things primarily from Tony's view. So, no detours into what Hammer and Vanko are doing in case anyone is actually going to miss those sections. 
> 
> Anyways, that's about it. Please review if you have the time, every single one makes me smile until my roommates judge me.

              “ _Higher!_ ”

              Tony chuckles but does as the child in his arms commands, his ascent more careful, controlled and gentle than it has ever been. The ground falls farther away beneath them, golden sand melding into cobalt water that glimmers cheerily in the Malibu sun. On the spur of the moment, Tony coasts slightly to the left until the armor’s sensors light up around his neck, reminding him of the second child on his back.

              “How’re you doing up there, Apple Pie?” he calls, voice slightly modulated through the helmet.

              He senses Jaime’s grumbling more than he hears it; despite the perfect weather conditions, there is just enough of a wind whipping around the armor to make quiet conversation nearly impossible during a flight.

              “What’s that?”

              “I said, I wish we could go faster,” Jaime yells against the side of the helmet.

              “No can do, Koala Bear. We’ve been over this, I can’t break the sound barrier _and_ carry you two at the same time. That would be very unsafe and your Aunt Pep would murder me in my sleep.”

              “Nuh-uh,” Jaime huffs. “She likes you too much.”

              “We could go faster if _I_ was flying,” Sarah pipes up, her arms splayed and palms raised up to catch the sun. Tony dips down until they are bare inches away from the water’s surface, lets her run her fingers through the air to catch the mist.

              “I bet I’d fly faster than you,” Jaime calls down. Tony lists to the side to let Jaime have his own turn playing with the mist, Sarah tucked securely against his chest.

              “Ah ah ah, what are the rules?” Tony interrupts before the twins can get into a full-blown shouting match mid-air, instinctively stamping down on the well of terror and anxiety that rises inside of him whenever either of the twins express a desire to do something dangerous. Which is often. Rhodey calls it karma. 

              “No tools until we’re five,” Sarah recites dutifully.

              “And no flying until we can build a suit,” Jaime finishes.

              “Good.” Tony pulls up with a slight jolt that leaves the twins squealing in shock and joy. He tilts to the right, gradually turning them in the direction of home moments before J.A.R.V.I.S. helpfully reminds him that he has a flight to catch.

              “Colonel Rhodes and Mr. Hogan are both waiting for you on the beach, sir,” the A.I. continues when Tony makes no noise of acknowledgement. “Ms. Potts has informed me that unless you pick up the pace she will ensure that the only things in your luggage are pink suits and flip-flops.”

              “Tell Pepper that the joke’s on her – pink is my color and flip flops are the new dress shoes.”

              “Of course they are, sir.”

              Sarah and Jaime laugh at the A.I.’s sarcasm, broadcast via the armor’s speakers for their benefit, prompting Tony to put on a little burst of speed as soon as he can see the shoreline. As J.A.R.V.I.S. predicted, Happy and Rhodey are waiting on beach, Rhodey in his dress uniform and Happy in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt that Tony has fought hard to ban for the better part of three months.

              “Hi Uncle Happy,” Sarah calls out. She waits patiently until Tony unlocks the joints of his left arm and gently deposits her on the sand.

              Jaime, for his part, wriggles impatiently until Tony tells J.A.R.V.I.S. to unlock the specialized pouch on the armor’s back plating, allowing Jaime to free his legs and clamber down after his sister.

              “Hi Uncle Rhodey,” he adds with a grin, his arms raised expectantly. Rhodey swoops in immediately and whirls the boy around in a half circle before tucking him under one arm.

              “What’s up, slugger? Did you tell your dad how late he’s made us?”

              “Papa says he’s never late because he owns the plane,” Sarah tells Rhodey primly. She’s already curled comfortably in Happy’s arms, her sunny grin a stark contrast to Happy’s carefully-stoic face.

              Tony knows that Happy will grin, cross his eyes and stick out his tongue the second no one is watching. He makes a mental note to ask either J.A.R.V.I.S. or Sarah to take a picture the next time it happens.

              “ _Papa_ still doesn’t understand how time zones work,” Rhodey quips. He wraps a second arm around Jaime and gives the boy a quick squeeze before setting him down. “C’mon, Tones – out of the monkey suit, we have to go.”

              “Anything for you, Honeybear. J, take us home. Hap, don’t keep these two up too late. Sarah, Jaime, try not to drive Uncle Happy crazy. I’ll be back before tomorrow night, ok? I love you.”

              The twins sigh, mumble their replies, and scramble away from their uncles when Tony kneels down with his arms spread wide. He flips the faceplate up, gives them each a quick kiss on the forehead and waits until Rhodey and Happy have hold of them before he takes to the skies.

*                         *                         *

              Pepper takes mercy on him and packs him a dove-gray suit instead of a pink one for the hearing. Tony wears flip-flops and a pink dress shirt for the flight just to prove a point.

              “God, you look terrible,” Rhodey informs him somewhere over Oklahoma. It’s the fifth such statement he’s made so far - Tony is secretly hoping he makes it to ten.

              “You’re just jealous that I pull this off better than you do.”

              “You _wish_.”

              “Oh yeah? Prove it. Next year, the twins’ birthday. We’ll make it pink-themed.”

              “Your birthday’s sooner, why don’t we make _that_ pink-themed?”

              “I’m not reissuing Tony’s birthday invitations just to settle a bet,” Pepper interrupts from halfway across the plane. Her long legs are covered by sweatpants that she will ditch about an hour before they land, and her feet are perched on the headrest of the seat next to her. It’s a pose that no one outside of her inner circle will ever see, and Tony feels a bittersweet surge of gratitude that he’s actually included in that number. “You boys can wait until next April and let the twins decide who looks better in pink.”

              “Spoilsport,” Tony grumbles.

              Rhodey merely smirks, his smile fading as he turns back to the report in front of him.

              “I wonder how much shit I’m going to get for arriving with you,” he muses. “I wasn’t even supposed to tell you that they called me in as a witness, let alone fly to the hearing in your private jet.”

              “You didn’t technically _tell_ me about the witness thing,” Tony points out. “I called you to babysit the twins for me, you said you were going to be in D.C. on government business on the exact same day as the hearing when I _know_ you had a flight demonstration with your minions - ”

              “Please stop calling my students minions.”

              “ – that you’ve been looking forward to for _weeks._ It doesn’t take a genius-level intellect to connect the dots,” Tony finishes triumphantly. He pauses, waits for some acknowledgement of his greatness, and pouts when he receives nothing. “Remind me again why we’re going to this hearing?”

              “Congress has the right to confiscate the suit and your technology if they deem it and you a threat to national security. At the moment, your approval rating is triple theirs, which is why they’re trying to make their case in public. It’s your job to present a charming, capable, trustworthy face to the public to prove that you have the right to retain and use the suit as you see fit,” Pepper recites wearily.

              Tony groans and chooses to turn back to his tablet rather than reply. J.A.R.V.I.S. has kindly left the latest toxicity reports open for his viewing, a not-so-subtle attempt at pushing him towards openness about his condition. He glances at the numbers just long enough to note that they have risen again before he turns the tablet off and shoves it away.

              Rhodey glances up at the motion, his brow furrowing at the unusual distance between Tony and his tech. “Everything alright?”

              Tony looks at him and thinks about telling him, telling Pepper. He imagines sharing this burden with someone, _anyone_ else. He imagines the ways they would try to take care of him, their insistence that he cut down time in the suit.

              He thinks about the missions he still has to complete and morning flights over the ocean with his kids in his arms and on his back.

              He thinks about Yinsen reminiscing on dead men walking and the look on Rhodey’s face when they found each other in the desert.

              He thinks about dying, about dying again and staying dead, and feels each breath catch in his lungs like it is the last one he will ever take.

              “Yeah, I – Energy readings. From the suit. I’m trying to make it more efficient.”

              “Bad readings?” Rhodey guesses cautiously, dark eyes boring into Tony’s with the intensity he used to reserve for the aftermaths of Tony’s more spectacular drinking binges.

              “Yeah. 46 percent.”

              “Well, that can only get higher, can’t it? You’ll get there.”

              Tony laughs aloud and barely keeps the hysteria out of his voice. Rhodey’s frown deepens.

              “Yeah,” Tony croaks. “Yeah, those numbers will definitely get higher, Rhodeybear. Don’t worry about that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note here, I did not write most of the actual dialogue from this hearing and now I have a sneaking suspicion that I have memorized half of that hearing scene.
> 
> You are all amazing, and please leave kudos and review if you have the time!

              “Mr. Stark, can we pick up where we left off? Mr. Stark, _please_.”

              It takes Tony a moment to decide whether or not he wants to acknowledge the senator. He’s still leaning across the back of his chair to speak to Pepper about making sure that Rhodey’s next StarkPhone comes in pink when he hears the sounds of a gavel behind him. Pepper shoots him a look when he continues to ignore the committee, eyes flashing in warning and mouth forming a final, silent “ _No_ ” just as he turns away.

              “Mr. Stark!”

              “Yes, dear?” Tony quips, lips curling into a vicious smirk at the answering snickers from the reporters in the room.

              Senator Stern fixes him with a flat, unamused look. “If I can have your attention?”

              “ _Absolutely_ ,” Tony assures him with all the sincerity he can muster. It’s not much, and he nearly smirks again when Stern’s left eye begins to twitch.

              “Do you or do you not possess a specialized weapon?” Stern drawls.

              “I do not.”

              “You do _not_?”

              “I _do not_ ,” Tony repeats. Then: “Well, it depends on how you define the word ‘weapon’.” He turns to throw a quick glance at Pepper, more to avoid looking at the committee than because he has any hopes of seeing an actual reaction from her.

              “The _Iron Man_ weapon,” Stern calls out, drawing Tony’s reluctant attention back to the bench.

              Tony fights back a frown, ignoring the ripple of anger that goes through him at the label and the memories that go with it. He makes no attempt to look back at Pepper this time, some small part of him still smarting from her first reaction when she saw what the suit would be capable of, her belief that it was just another weapon like the others.

              Like Jericho.

              “My device does not fit that description,” he tells the senators.

              “How would you describe it?” Stern pushes.

              “I would describe it by defining it as what it is, Senator.”

              “As?”

              “I- It’s – ,” Tony falters for the first time during the hearing. He hums, once, and tilts his head to the side in a nervous tic that he’s picked up from Jaime before carefully plowing ahead. “It’s a high-tech prosthesis.”

              The room rings with laughter again and he nearly cringes because – well, it’s the most apt description he has for the suit, isn’t it? A prosthesis, powered by the very thing that keeps him alive and meant to make up for crimes that he cannot possibly atone for alone.

              The suit is a crutch, a support system that exists to help him carry the load of thousands of lives and decades of destruction until his body collapses from the strain.

              “It’s a _weapon_ ,” Stern insists, dragging his attention back to the hearing. “It’s a weapon, Mr. Stark. I hate to -.”

              “Oh _please_ ,” Tony snaps, and he can actually _feel_ Pepper’s glare on him now. “If your priority was actually the wellbeing of the American pe-.”

              “My _priority_ is to get the Iron Man weapon turned over to the people of the United States of America.”

              _What a fucking terrible idea_ , Tony thinks.

              “Well, you can forget it,” he says aloud. “I am Iron Man. The suit and I are… one. To turn over the suit would be to turn over myself, which is tantamount to indentured servitude or prostitution, depending on what state you’re in. Can’t have it.”

              Pepper is actually going to kill him, now. It also occurs to him, belatedly, that the twins are likely watching this courtesy of Happy, and Tony abruptly comes to the horrifying conclusion that he might have to explain prostitution to his children.

              “Well,” Stern sneers. “I’m no _expert_ -.”

              “In prostitution?” Tony counters innocently. “Of course not, you’re a Senator, come on!”

              He risks a look back a Pepper and quietly amends his previous estimates on his life expectancy. The flash and flicker of banked lightning in her eyes is a look that he has only seen once or twice before, and at least one of the recipients of said gaze is dead now.

              “I’m not an expert in _weapons_ ,” Stern continues doggedly, the tone of his voice suggesting that he has only put up with Tony’s antics for this long because he believes that he has him in a corner. “We have someone here who _is_ an expert on weapons. I would now like to call Justin Hammer, our current primary weapons contractor.”

              Tony sees Pepper’s lips tighten around a grimace at the exact moment that he feels a rush of familiar contempt for the slight, grey-clad figure now slipping into a chair a ways down from him. He swivels around, pointedly ignoring Pepper’s warning look, and leans towards the microphone.

              “Let the record reflect that I _observe_ Mr. Hammer entering the chamber and I am wondering if and when any _actual_ expert will actually be in attendance.”

              A few groans, another round of the gavel, and Hammer’s laughter grates against his eardrums.

              “Absolutely, I’m no expert. I defer to _you_ , Anthony. You’re the wonder boy.”

_"Yeah, that’s my Anthony,” Howard laughs, his smile bright, too bright, and sharp in front of the army of cameras clustered around them. His hand tightens around Tony’s shoulder in warning when the boy begins to squirm. “The wonder boy of Stark Industries. He’ll be a marvel someday, gentlemen, I guarantee it!”_

             “Uh, Senator,” Hammer continues, pulling Tony out of his memories with all the subtlety of an actual hammer.  He’s standing, for some ungodly reason, a microphone that was never meant to be portable clutched clumsily in his fist. “If I may, I may not be an expert. But you know who was _the_ expert? Your dad – Howard Stark. Really a father to us all.”

             Tony feels his face convulse and wonders for a split second what his face must look like to the general public.

             “And to the military industrial age,” Hammer drones on. “And let’s just be clear here, he was no flower child. He was a lion.”

             Tony risks a glance up at the committee to distract himself from the sudden mental image of Howard as the hippie version of Mufasa and notes with no small amount of glee that even Stern is looking a bit exasperated with Hammer’s impromptu bout of nostalgia.

              “We all know why we’re here: in the last six months, Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. And yet, he insists it’s a shield. He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it.”

              _God, that reminds me, I need to update the shield setting on the gauntlet_. Tony snatches one of the notebooks scattered across the table in front of him and sketches out a small shield logo – a round thing with two inner rings. He moves his hand away before he can add a star in the center.

              “I wish I were comforted, Anthony,” Hammer croons. “I – I really do. I’d love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain’t Canada. You know, we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr. Stark will not always be able to foresee.”

              Tony shakes his head, still caught between plans for a new shield and a flicker of curiosity over why, exactly, Hammer thinks that Canadians never lock their doors. He hears Hammer make his parting remarks, instinctively twitches when the man calls out a “God Bless Iron Man”, and valiantly does not roll his eyes when he sees Stern and the other senators dutifully applauding the idiot.

              “Thank you,” Stern calls out. “That was well said, Mr. Hammer.”

              _Was it though?_

              “The committee would now like to invite Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes to the chamber.”

              Tony blinks and murmurs “ _Rhodey?_ ” for the benefit of the cameras shuttering in his face, careful to keep to the script that Rhodey laid out for him on the plane. He swivels slowly, still playing up his shock, but stands in time to clasp Rhodey’s hand in his own and flash him a grin.

              “Hey buddy,” he chirps. “Didn’t expect to see _you_ here. How are the minions?”

              “I told you to stop calling them that,” Rhodes grouses.

              Tony shrugs and allows Rhodey to take a seat before he returns to his chair, his grin triumphant when he sees Stern note that Rhodey has chosen to sit next to Tony instead of Hammer.

              “I have before me a complete report on the Iron Man weapon compiled by Colonel Rhodes,” Stern continues after a brief pause. “And Colonel, for the record, can you please read page 57, paragraph 4?”

              “You’re requesting that I read specific selections from my report, Senator?” Rhodey asks, his tone polite with just the faintest hint of incredulity.  

              Tony watches Rhodes and Stern go back and forth about the limitations of reading specific things out of context without giving the entire report, unable to find a hint of anxiety or irritation when Stern finally pulls rank and has Rhodey read the required section. He knows what is in the report, had read the final draft before most of the members of the committee had gotten a hold of it. He knows the full message, knows how much effort Rhodey put into making a case in support of Tony and Iron Man.

              He knows that, whatever Rhodes wrote, however much he stuck his neck out for Tony’s sake, it will never be enough. Not for these people.

              “… I then go on to summarize that the _benefits_ of Iron Man far outweigh the liability,” Rhodey continues, doggedly pressing on for a few more seconds despite Stern’s increasingly vocal objections.

              “ _That’s enough, Colonel_ ,” Stern snaps. “That’s enough.”

              “- _and that it would be in our interest_ ,” Rhodey insists, “to fold Mr. Stark into the chain of command.”

              Tony buts in then, knowing full well that very little will actually get Rhodey to stop at this point.

              “I’m not a joiner,” he drawls, “but I’ll consider Secretary of Defense. If you ask nice.” He hears the laughter, sees Rhodey roll his eyes in exasperation, and presses on. “We can amend the hours a little bit, though. I have other obligations to attend to.”

              He sees Hammer looking at him out of the corner of his eye but refuses to give the man the satisfaction of actually meeting his gaze.

              “Obligations,” Hammer drawls, raising his voice when Tony still refuses to look at him. “Obligations? Is that what you’re calling your little orphan collection nowadays?”

              Tony’s head snaps up and around to fix Hammer with a glare. He can feel Rhodey stiffen immediately at his side, can hear Pepper hiss something that might be a warning, but he ignores them both in favor of staring down the man who is currently caught between a smirk and a grimace at the sudden attention.

              “Pardon?” Tony asks through gritted teeth.

              The smirk begins to overtake the grimace on Hammer’s face. “Oh, I’m sorry, is there another term you’d prefer? Maybe ‘PR Stunt’ is a better description,” he continues, reveling in the rising chorus of murmurs, titters and groans from the audience behind them. “Do you even have them anymore? I haven’t seen them – maybe you traded them in for some newer models, something that tugs on the heartstrings a little more. I’ve got a couple Korean brats that’ll work if you need something new for the media to drool over.”

              Tony sees _red_ , nails digging into the center of his palms with enough force to draw actual blood and his pulse is  _roaring_ in his ears. He surges to his feet, ready to show Hammer exactly how hard he can hit outside of the suit (or in it, he knows where Pepper is keeping the suitcase armor _just in case_ ) –

              Rhodey is already standing, have turned to keep Tony and Hammer apart even as he all but snarls in the other man’s face.

              “ – don’t care what kind of human trafficking _bullshit_ you get into in your free time, you son of a bitch, if you _ever_ talk about my godchildren like that again I will _personally_ ensure that your ass is wiped off the face of the earth, do you understand me?”

              “ _Godchildren?_ ” Stern parrots from his place on the panel.

              Rhodey is turning to look at the senators, eyes still flashing with carefully banked fury. Tony watches Hammer settle back into his seat with a grin and calmly decides that  _fuck it_ , he’s played nice long enough.

              His phone is out of his pocket and aimed at the screens placed at either end of the panel before anyone thinks to look in his direction, J.A.R.V.I.S. slamming through Hammer’s firewalls and lighting up the screens after a single swipe of his thumb.

              “I’m taking your screens, now,” he announces to the room at large. “I need them.”

              “Mr. St – _Mr. Stark_ , we need those – those are part of Colonel Rhodes’s presentation, whenever he sees fit to – there is evidence on those screens of developing tech – _Mr. Stark!_ ” Stern splutters. He makes a quick, cutting gesture with his hand and Hammer jumps to his feet, hands flailing uselessly around base of the nearest screen.

              Tony ignores them both, fingers flying across the screen of his phone. He brings up photos of North Korean, Russian and Chinese bases and dismisses them with a wave of his hand, opting to pull up a series of video files instead.

              “If I’m correct, which I always am,” Tony continues. “You were about to make the case that my suit is in the process of being imitated by hostile powers, which would in turn make my refusal to share _my property_ a threat to national security. And you’re not _entirely_ wrong, it looks like there are some imitation attempts being made – North Korea, for example.”

              The screen goes black and white, transforms into a video of a clunking, vaguely-familiar armor that takes a single step forward before tripping and crumpling to the side with a spray of gunfire. Blood splatters across the camera lens and muffled screams an ocean away mix with horrified gasps in the chamber.

              Tony grits his teeth and cycles through other videos, through Russia and China and Iran and – “Oh, is that Justin Hammer?”

              Hammer, if anything, becomes even more frantic while Stern continues to bark at him from the panel. The video continues on regardless, showing everyone with eyes a full, color clip of Hammer’s test pilot twisting into an unnatural position and screaming in pain while Hammer both on screen and off starts up a quiet litany of swear words.

              Tony stops when the screams become too much, even for him, but makes sure that the screens are paused and focused on the look of horrified anger on Hammer’s face and the grotesque twist of his test pilot’s body. Hammer finally yanks out the power cord on his screen, leaving only half of the room with a view of the frozen image.

              “As we can see, most foreign intel is about, hm, ten years away from the Iron Man suit,” Tony informs the now-silent room. “In Hammer’s case, we’ll make it twenty. Twenty-five, if we’re being realistic.” He’s still standing, still half-pressed against Rhodey’s tense shoulders, and he takes a long step back away from everything. “You want my property? _You can’t have it_. It’s _mine_ , do you understand?”

              He looks straight into Stern’s flushed features and effortlessly musters up enough anger and hatred to match the rage he sees in the senator’s beady eyes.

              “You should be thanking me,” he sneers. “I have successfully privatized world peace.” He throws up a quick peace sign and turns to smirk at the audience behind him, ignoring Pepper as best he can and shrugging off the hand that Rhodey tries to put on his shoulder.

              “Do you see that?” he yells at the crowd, his anger bubbling closer and closer to the surface with every glance between his audience and the committee, every moment his eyes flicker across the man who brought _his children_ into this. “I tried to level with these ass clowns!”

              “Fuck you, Mr. Stark,” Stern calls out behind him. “Fuck you, buddy.”

              Tony flips him off on his way out of the chamber.

              He refuses to look back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony asks an important question and sees a new face.

              The flight back to Malibu is quieter than Tony had expected.

              To Rhodey’s quiet, the man _had_ attempted to give some variation of his usual _Tony-Why-Are-You-Like-This_ lecture before he was interrupted by a call from his mother. Tony heard a few seconds of Mama Rhodes’s outraged shriek and her demands for Rhodey to “ _Find me the man who insulted my grand-godbabies, I just want to talk, James_ ” followed closely by a chorus of his sisters’ demanding to know “ _Why the fuck have we never heard about these godchildren before?! How many presents are we behind on, James?!_ ” before Rhodey grimaced and ducked into the back of the plane.

              Pepper has yet to say a word, had barely cracked a smile at Rhodey’s antics. She remains curled primly in a seat exactly in the middle of the plane, still clad in her suit from the hearing with nary a hair out of place. Her gaze is focused entirely on the StarkPad in her hands, even when Tony plops down into the seat across from her and leans into her personal space bubble.

              This close, he can see her laugh lines and the streaks of cobalt and steal in her eyes. He can see her mouth quirk to the side despite her best efforts and the splash of freckles across the tip of her nose that fascinated him back when he believed that he was in love with her.

              Tony loves her, will always love her. And yet…

              “Pep,” he whispers, voice rougher than he had intended it to be. He clears his throat and tries again. “Pepper.”

              She refuses to look at him. “I told you to play nice. All I asked was that you _follow the script_ and be _charming_ – ”

              “Pepper.”

              “And I know Hammer went way out of line, I _know_ , okay? Believe me, Rhodey wasn’t the only one who was _this close_ to shanking him with a stiletto – ”

              “Rhodey wanted to shank Hammer with a stiletto?”

              “ – But, Tony, you were already pushing the envelope before Hammer… And I know, _I know_ that that’s what you do. You make a scene, you _destroy_ people for entertainment, and somehow it always works in your favor, but you just can’t _do that_ anymore, Tony. You are a father, you’re a _superhero_ , for God’s sake, and you have a company to run – ”

              “No, I don’t.”

              “ – What?”

              Tony smiles at her, unsure whether to savor the sudden silence or shrink from it.

              “I don’t,” he tells her carefully. “I don’t run the company, Pepper. I haven’t run it in… God, ever, really. First it was Stane and – and anything that he actually left for me to do, that mostly went through you anyways, didn’t it? I was too busy with the R&D side, if I even worked at _all_ between… everything. You’ve kept the place afloat, you’ve kept _me_ afloat.”

              He pauses and looks back up at her, waiting for her to say something. Pepper simply stares back at him, her mouth hanging open in an imperfect “O”.

              “You’re an incredible, accomplished, and utterly _terrifying_ woman, Ms. Potts,” Tony informs her. “And I want you to take over my company.”

              Pepper actually _squeaks_ at him and leans back in her seat, her StarkPad falling into her lap as she folds her hands in front of her mouth. Tony purses his lips against the laughter he can feel rising in his throat and pretends that the stinging in his eyes is the result of joy and not regret. He surges out of his chair in the spur of the moment and drops to one knee in front of her, his laughter breaking free when she squeaks at him again.

              “Virginia Potts,” Tony drones with all the formality that his father used to demand from even the lowest member of the board. “Will you do me the honor of becoming the CEO of Stark Industries?”

              “ _Tony!_ ” she gasps, her voice muffled by the hands still clasped in front of her mouth.

              His name is the only sound she makes for a long moment, her slight form nearly vibrating in her seat. Tony stubbornly remains on one knee, refusing to give up the aesthetic of the moment and dimly aware that this will probably be the one and only time he ever gets down on one knee for anyone.

              “I’m going to need an answer, Ms. Potts,” he quips once his knee starts to get sore.  “For legal reasons.”

              “Hey, sorry about that, guys. My mom says – holy _shit_ , is this a proposal?”

              Tony and Pepper whip around to stare at Rhodey, Pepper’s hands still clasped in front of her mouth while Tony has started to wobble on his knee.

              “Honeybear, you’re ruining the moment – ”

              “ _Tony just made me CEO_ ,” Pepper wheezes between her fingers.

              “You never actually said yes – ”

              “ _Yes_. Yes, this is me saying yes – Oh my God, Tony, are you sure?”

              “Yeah, Pep, I’m sure.” Tony’s laughing, really laughing for the first time since his toxicity levels crept about 35 and he sees Rhodey and Pepper join in out of the corner of his eyes, watches Pepper’s eyes light up with a level of excitement that he hasn’t seen in years.

              He makes sure to save the image of her laughing, of Rhodey smiling so wide it looks like it hurts, knowing more than most people that he is going to be desperate for some good memories to look back on when he dies.

              “You’re in charge of drawing up the paperwork for this, though,” Tony tells Pepper when their laughter has faded and the three of them are smiling like idiots across the plane.

              “Aren’t I always?” she quips.

              “Jesus, I’m going for _ten minutes_ and you two upend the entire company,” Rhodey groans. He winces suddenly and Tony raises his eyebrows when the other man actually _blushes_. “Ah, also, before I forget – Ma and the girls said to tell you that they said ‘hi’. And I’m…. sorry. For earlier. When I called the twins my ‘godchildren’. And they’re not, but – with Hammer – I lost my temper.”

              Tony blinks at him for long enough that the blush on Rhodey’s cheeks deepens to an impressive red while Pepper temporarily abandons her search for celebratory champagne in favor of eyeing them both.

              “… J.A.R.V.I.S., call Happy,” he says abruptly and reaches to scoop up his dormant StarkPad.

              Rhodey and Pepper frown but remain silent until Happy’s face appears on the tablet’s screen, brow furrowed in confusion. Tony offers him a quicksilver grin and lifts the tablet to ensure that everyone can see, doing his best to ignore the nervous twist in his stomach.

              “What’s going on?” the chauffeur offers in greeting.

              “Are the twins in bed and did they watch any of the hearing?”

              “Yes and not all of it, Jaime got bored and dragged Sarah down to the lab before you could bring up prostitution,” Happy replies, a quirk of his eyebrow the only sign of disapproval for _that_ particular stunt of Tony’s. “They – they weren’t around for Hammer’s bullshit.”

              “ _Good_ ,” Pepper growls, eyes flashing. “They didn’t need to hear that.”

              Happy only nods, jaw and shoulders tight before he releases a tense breath and offers a strained smile. “Oh, congrats on the whole godparent thing, Rhodes.”

              “Look, it just slipped out – ”

              “Actually,” Tony breaks in, voice higher than usual. “I, uh, that’s sort of the reason why I called.”

              “What – because of the godchildren comment?” Rhodey asks.

              “Yes.” Tony’s voice breaks halfway and he clears his throat before starting again. “Yes. I have – I’ve given this a lot of thought, lately. For several reasons, mainly because of the whole Iron Man thing. And I came to the conclusion that it would be best to know that if anything… happened, that the twins would be safe. And the only people that I actually trust are – obviously, there’s no pressure, you can say no. I know it’s lot to ask, so – ”

              “Tony,” Pepper interrupts. “What are you trying to ask?”

              “Willyouallbethegodparentstomychildren,” Tony blurts out in a rush.

              There is a long, long pause as everyone translates Tony back into English and Tony mentally tries to will his heart rate to slow down while failing to meet _anybody’s_ eyes.

              “ _Tony_ ,” Pepper breathes finally. She rockets across the space separating them and tugs him into a hug, nearly sending the StarkPad with Happy’s stunned face flying across the aisle.

              Rhodey slams into them a moment later, his hand reaching up to cup the back of Tony’s head while he mumbles “ _Yes_ , you fucking moron” into his shoulder. Pepper pulls back long enough to give a _yes_ of her own and Happy yelps out his own affirmation moments later, voice strained and eyes blinking rapidly on the screen.

              “You – ” Tony’s voice breaks again but he pushes through. “You have to call yourselves the Iron Council. That’s literally my only condition for all of this.”

              “I refuse to put the words ‘Iron Council’ in the paperwork for this,” Pepper grumbles, her voice wrecked and eyes streaming when she pulls away to look at them all. “I’m not doing it.”

              “The Iron Council,” Tony insists. He sees Happy nod slightly on the screen and gestures towards him with his free hand. “See? See, Happy is into it.”

              “No, I’m not,” Happy immediately squeaks when Pepper turns to glare at him.

              “I can get behind it,” Rhodey chuckles. He stops abruptly and pales. “Ah fuck. Why couldn’t you do this before I told my folks that the whole godchildren thing was a mistake? Now I have to call them back, and you _know_ Ma is going to be breaking down your door in a day with a mountain of presents. It’s going to be chaos, Tony.”

              “You could always convene the Iron Council if you need backup,” Happy drawls, immediately drawing Pepper’s ire.

              Tony laughs again and sits back to watch his friends argue around and over him, eyes fixed on the clouds passing by outside the jet windows.

              _That’s two things crossed off the list_ , he thinks and tries to pretend his heart doesn’t ache at the thought.

*                         *                         *

              Tony meets Natalie Rushman the day Pepper finalizes the paperwork cementing her status as CEO. It’s been a week and a half since the hearing, his toxicity levels have just broken 48 percent and he’s up to 96 ounces of godawful smoothies a day.

              Pepper had spent most of the first three days ensuring that the twins will be taken care of by the Iron Council (Happy and Rhodey are now fully behind the name) once Tony is gone. The rest of their time had been split between minimizing the remaining damage from the hearing, keeping the Stark Expo running smoothly and carefully leaking hints that a new Stark Industries CEO _might_ be on the horizon. True to Rhodey’s warnings, Mama Rhodes bursts through Tony’s front door barely a day after Rhodey tells her about Tony’s request flanked by all three of the Rhodes sisters and carting a literal mountain of new toys, clothes and games for the twins. Sarah and Jaime had taken Tony’s cautious explanation of the concept of “godparents” with an unholy level of glee and routinely ask when they can see _Anaa_ Rhodes again.

              They frown at him when he mentions that Mama Rhodes might be watching them while he and Pepper are off in Monaco, enthusiasm banked in favor of a pensive look that Tony remembers all too well from his own childhood. He nearly calls the entire trip off right there but holds off for Pepper’s sake. Monaco will be her first real appearance as CEO, his first truly public appearance since the hearings, and they both know how important it is for Tony to give visible approval of her new position.

              It still kills him to leave the twins now, regardless of how justified he is in doing so, and he quietly asks J.A.R.V.I.S. to look into improving the suit’s flight speed.

              Happy comes over for their bi-weekly boxing practice the day after he tells the twins about Monaco. Sarah and Jaime appear just long enough to give Happy their usual hugs in greeting before they disappear in favor of whatever it is that has kept them busy for most of the morning. Tony shrugs in response to Happy’s questioning look and the two are in their usual groove by the time Pepper stalks in with a sharp grin on her face.

              “The notary is here,” she announces. “Could you please come sign the transfer paperwork?”

              “I’m on Happy time!” Tony shouts back before he jams his elbow into his chauffeur’s nose. “Sorry.”

              “What the hell was that?” Happy yelps.

              Tony grins and hears Pepper’s exasperated sigh from somewhere behind them. “It’s called mixed martial arts. It’s been around for… three weeks.”

              “It’s called _dirty boxing_ ,” Happy snaps. “There’s nothing new about it. Put ‘em up, come on – ” He pauses and stares somewhere over Tony’s shoulder until Tony turns around to get a look at what exactly has tripped the other man up.

              A new woman stares at them cautiously from the doorway, slender, curvy and very near his type from the old playboy days. She blinks before moving into the room, dark red hair curling perfectly around her shoulders. Tony eyes her carefully until she is nearly at Pepper’s side, unsure whether he is more unnerved or turned on by her appearance. At the moment, he is leaning towards both.

              “I promise you, this is the only time I will ask you to sign over your company,” Pepper quips.

              Tony hums and watches the new woman slide in close to Pepper’s personal space and instruct her where to initial and sign. The unnerved part of him is rapidly winning out, catching on the careful way she holds herself – seductive, but purposely so, subtle in ways that a hundred women before her never were. Her eyes, when they flick past Pepper to fix on Tony’s, are sharp and practically _burning_ with carefully repressed intelligence.

              _Lethal_ , his brain supplies helpfully. Then she bites her lip and shuffles uncertainly while Pepper signs the papers, and Tony begins to wonder if palladium poisoning causes hallucinations before it kills people.

              “Lesson one,” Happy chirps. “Never take your eye off – ”

              Tony twists and gives Happy a quick roundhouse kick that sends him flying into the nearest poll. The new redhead looks up at the sound of Tony ringing the victory bell. Pepper rolls her eyes.

              “I’m done,” Tony announces. He twists and takes another look at the new woman. “What’s your name?”

              “Rushman. Natalie Rushman,” she tells him, voice subdued and eyes flickering.

              “My new assistant,” Pepper adds in a rush, lips pursed together in warning when Tony only nods in acknowledgement.

              Tony eyes Natalie, is ten seconds away from inviting her into the ring and putting that whisper of _lethal_ to the test, when two dark-haired blurs storm into the room. They dodge neatly around Natalie, the only indication that they are aware of a foreign presence in the room, and continue barreling towards Tony at a breakneck pace.

              “ _Papa!_ ” Sarah and Jaime scream in unison. “Papa!”

              “What’s going on?” Tony demands. He leaps over the cord surrounding the ring and immediately pulls both children into his arms, eyes raking over each of them for any sign of injury or tears. “J, I need a scan – ”

              “ _The kha_ , Papa,” Sarah assures him quickly. “Jaime is fine, too. We’re going to Monaco!”

              “They’re going where?” Pepper asks sweetly, voice dangerously sweet.

              “Monaco, Aunt Pep,” Jaime squeals. “Papa said that we couldn’t because it’d be too hard to make sure that we were safe but we were talking to J.A.R.V.I.S. about security protocols with the suit – ”

              “ _What?_ ” Tony yelps.

              “ – and _he_ said that there are already protocols in place to protect us in case of attacks or something, and you always bring the suits _and_ J.A.R.V.I.S. _and_ Uncle Happy, and Aunt Pep will scare off anyone who tries to attack us _anyways_ and _J.A.R.V.I.S._ says that the crime rate in Monaco is com- J.A.R.V.I.S., how did you say it?”

              “The crime rate in Monaco is comparatively low, Miss Sarah, particularly if you are using Malibu as reference,” the AI replied instantly.

              Natalie startled slightly at the AI’s voice, her eyes flickering between the twins and the ceiling with obvious surprise.

              “Can we go to Monaco now, Papa?” Jaime asks, breathless and excited.

              “We want to go with you,” Sarah adds quietly, and Tony takes in a careful breath because she is _never_ this quiet and he knows, he just knows that he’s going to cave as soon as he looks at her wide brown eyes.

              “ _Fine_ ,” Pepper groans before Tony can even say anything, making Tony and the twins jump in shock. “Fine. Fine! You can come.”

              The twins scream their excitement, wiggle out of Tony’s arms and launch themselves into Pepper with enough force to propel her back into the nearest couch. She laughs, rolls her eyes and shoots Tony a look that tells him _very clearly_ that he will be working out the new logistics himself.

              Which is fine. He can do logistics, he can plan things.

              He can have J.A.R.V.I.S. plan things at any rate.

              “Natalie?” he calls out and the redhead actually startles, which seems exceedingly rare for her.

              “Hand me those papers to sign. And tell Pepper that I need to borrow you to finalize the Monaco plans.”

              “I’m _right here_ , Tony,” Pepper yelps from under a pile of excited three-year-olds. “ _Happy!_ Wait, Sar- hah! Don’t elbow me there, sweetie, I’m a bit ticklish – ee! _Happy!_ ”

              Tony smiles and offers Natalie a wink, unsure whether or not he is relieved or worried that the tiny whisper of _lethal_ is still floating around in his brain.

              J.A.R.V.I.S. strengthens the security protocols later that night. The twins are packed by morning, and pout for the rest of the day when Tony gently reminds them that they will not leave for Monaco for three more days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Prix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, I'm sorry for the late update to this. I ended up getting sick last week, work was crazy and some other things got out of hand for a little while. BUT, to make up for my lateness, I will try and have another chapter out this week.
> 
> Anyways, please review if you have the time and thank you, as always, for reading!
> 
> (Also, apologies for any mistakes in Pashto. I do not speak it and Google is my friend)

      Tony and Pepper spend several days negotiating the new terms of the Monaco trip.

      Despite the fact that she was the one who gave into the twins in the first place, Tony graciously accepts Pepper’s demand that he trade watching the Grand Prix from the pit in favor of a lunch that’s more of a media circus than an actual meal.

      He asks for Natalie Rushman in exchange, which earns him a well-deserved eye-roll and an additional travel buddy on the jet.

      Pepper’s brief look of disappointment when Natalie struts onto the plane at a godforsaken hour in a perfectly-tailored dress is well-worth the terrified gleam in Natalie’s eyes when Sarah and Jaime slam into her legs, drag her into the nearest seat, and immediately begin to pepper her with questions. Tony hears Happy chuckle just over his shoulder and turns to catch Pepper’s eye when she pauses.

      “… Is this really why you asked for Natalie to come along?” she asks finally.

      “The munchkins were curious,” Tony quips. “And I needed space to nap for a couple of hours.”

      Over a minute of total silence has him glancing around to finally meet Pepper’s stunned gaze.

      “Are you… Are you tired?” she whispers. “Jesus, Tony, are you dying?”

      “Yeah,” he laughs, voice breaking into an exhausted croak midway. Pepper flashes him another concerned look before hustling him to the jet’s plush leather couch.

      “Happy and I will take care of the twins, okay?” she mutters. “I – Natalie will help, too, but we’ll keep an eye on her. And them. You just rest.” She hesitates and offers him a small, mischievous smile. “And stop making jokes about dying; it’s bad for company morale.”

      Tony does his best to smile in response, allows her to tuck a plush blanket around him and ruffle his hair before she turns away and he plucks a spare StarkPhone out of his pocket.

      He hears Jaime squeal in surprise and spares a second to watch Pepper twirl the boy around in her arms. Sarah is still curled up next to a bemused Natalie, her arm wrapped securely around her Rhodey-bear, its flight suit neatly pressed and custom goggles perched on top of its head. Happy has gone up to the front, and Rhodey is back at his flight school, but Tony still smiles at the sight of the rest of his family together and curls around his phone, thumb pressed against the sensor until his toxicity levels blink up at him from the screen.

      63%.

      Tony sighs and curls onto his side, doing his best to ignore the feeling of poison spreading through his veins.

*                         *                         *

      Per his arrangement with Pepper, Tony follows her and Natalie into the restaurant after watching Happy and the twins settle just behind the Stark Industries pit crew. Both Sarah and Jaime are dressed in matching navy and black race suits, Sarah’s thick hair pulled back into a careful nest of braids at the back of her head courtesy of Pepper’s efforts. Natalie, apparently after catching sight of Jaime’s pout, added a neat side braid along the curve of his skull just before they landed. Tony has already made a mental note to ask her for lessons after all of this is over.

      Happy keeps hold of the suitcase armor after a solid hour of debate and a stunning betrayal that left Tony’s chauffeur siding with his CEO on the rules regarding weaponized armor and fine dining.

      Sarah and Jaime had been in favor of him actually wearing the armor into the restaurant.

      Regrettably, the opinions of three-year-olds did not hold the weight he had been hoping for.

      “Remember,” Pepper murmurs as they stride through the restaurant doors, arms locked in the very picture of easy friendship with Natalie walking purposefully behind them. “Be good.”

      “Aren’t I always?” Tony drawls around a media-ready smile.

      Pepper is too professional to roll her eyes, though the nails she digs into his forearm show exactly how much she cares for _that_ comment.

      In the span of five minutes, Natalie has them neatly ensconced at the best table in the room and Pepper has charmed half a dozen of the nearest journalists into copying down each statement like it’s been handed down from God. Tony, briefly left alone to cradle a tumbler of scotch, watches her work with a soft smile on his lips and toxicity levels creeping through his brain.

      65%.

      “Anthony! Is that you?”

      “Kill me,” Tony grumbles. “Justin."

      “Hey,” the other man drawls, leaning into Tony’s space until he nearly chokes on the miasma of cologne wafting off of the man’s skin. “You’re not the only rich guy here with a fancy car – well, you didn’t exactly come _in_ a car, but I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. Do you know Christine Everhart from _Vanity Fair_?”

      “Hi,” Christine greets politely, her cool smile tightening ever-so-slightly when Justin runs a proprietary hand along her shoulder. “We’ve met before.”

      “Yes, briefly,” Tony agrees.

      “BTW,” Justin says. “Big story – Tony’s now the _former_ CEO of Stark Industries.”

      “I know. Can I speak to Ms. Potts? My editor will kill me if I don’t grab a quote for our powerful women issue.”

      “We can check if she’s free,” Tony agrees and deftly pulls her away before Hammer can get another word in, deaf to the man’s squawks of protest and increasingly irritated by the tell-tale sounds of Hammer’s patent leather shoes shuffling after them in hot pursuit.

      “She’s actually doing a big spread on me for _Vanity Fair_ ,” Hammer tells the back of Tony’s neck.

      “Fascinating.”

      “I was just trying to throw her a bone.”

      “Is that right? Christine, Pepper appears to be free, why don’t you slip in there now. I’m sure Justin will be happy to wait until you get back.”

      Christine smirks at him and pauses, eyes flickering between Tony and Justin with careful consideration. “Is this the first time you’re seeing each other since the Senate hearing?”

      “Oh, you mean since he got his contract revoked? Yes, yes it is. Good-bye now.” Tony gives Christine another nod and a hand wave in Pepper’s direction before he catches Natalie’s eye and slips away.

      “Is the table ready?” he asks her.

      “It is now,” she tells him. Then: “Have fun with Hammer?”

      Tony gags and watches her lips quirk into smirk. He’s struck by the fact that this is possibly the first genuine smile that he’s seen from her and wonders again about that first whisper of _lethal_ that his brain had offered before.

      “You are very hard to get a read on, Ms. Rushman,” he informs her.

      The smirk disappears into a curious, almost docile look. Natalie blinks up at him with wide, brown eyes and flicks a few strands of hair behind her ear.

      “Am I?” she murmurs.

      “Yeah…” Movement on the screen catches Tony’s attention – he missed the start of the race, he realizes – and then there is a man on the screen, striding down the center of the racetrack with whips of pure energy trailing from his hands and leaving fire in his wake.

      “Oh God,” Tony whispers, his heart stuttering to a stop behind the arc reactor because he _knows_ where that man is going. “Oh God, oh _fuck_.”

      Natalie blinks, follows his gaze, and disappears before Tony can utter a single word. He rushes to Pepper, hands wrapping around her arm with more force than he had ever dared use on her before.

      “ _Tony_ ,” she hisses. “What - ?”

      “The twins. There’s a man – Fire. I need to go. Now.”

      “ _What?_ ” she yelps, eyes flickering to where a small crowd has gathered in front of the screen. “ _Fuck_. Tony – ”

      He runs away from her and out of the restaurant doors, where he nearly collides with a sleek black car before he can go two feet. The window slides down immediately, revealing Natalie’s vibrant red hair.

      “Get in,” she snaps.

      “Not my car,” Tony mutters, already clambering into the passenger seat. He hears the clack of Pepper’s heels and a muffled string of curses before she is diving into the back of the car.

      Natalie peels away from the curb immediately, picking up speed with every moment they spend on the road, and slams into the fence blocking off the track without batting an eye.

      “Get to the pit, the Stark pit,” Tony orders.

      He swears he can hear Natalie give a response in Russian, her slim hands directing them effortlessly around panicked cars barreling in the opposite direction and frantic security personnel trying to figure out where to go. Tony digs his phone out of his pocket, frantically typing in orders to J.A.R.V.I.S. while his eyes comb the track for any sign of the glowing whips that he had seen on television.

      Pepper sees them first and cries out in warning, dragging Tony’s attention to the man just as he tears through the fencing surrounding the Stark Industries pit. Tony catches a glimpse of scarlet and silver and watches the man lope to the overhang where Happy is crouched in front of the twins.

      “Ram him,” he snarls.

      Natalie smiles, slams her foot on the gas petal, and hits the man at an angle that sends him crashing into a racecar’s smoking husk.

      Tony leaps out of the vehicle before it has fully come to a stop, covering the cracked asphalt dividing him from his children at a dead sprint. Happy chucks the suitcase into his arms and Tony plunges his fists into the machinery, his body alternately relaxing and tensing under the familiar feel of the armor.

      “ _Stark_ ,” Natalie barks, the only warning Tony has before the wedge of a whip catches him around the arm and sends him flying.

      A second lash wraps around his throat a moment later, pulling him in the opposite direction. Tony grinds his heels into the ground, HUD pulsing between system warnings and power readings, and ducks. He inches forwards, carefully wrapping each sparking coil around his shoulders and chest and enduring the lash of the other whip until he and the other man are nearly face-to-face.

      He glimpses fear in the man’s eyes and makes sure his first punch breaks his nose.

      It takes two more hits from his gauntlets and a quick dive towards his opponents legs before he has the man flat on his back. Tony slams his armored hand into the man’s chest and rips out the bastardized arc reactor, crushing it between his fingers without a second thought. Men and women in CRS helmets have already converged on the scene and are dragging the man, now laughing and chanting “You lose” between mouthfuls of blood, away.

      Tony turns his back and immediately begins to disengage the armor, his eyes raking across Natalie’s ruined car before turning to Happy’s pale, dust-covered face.

      “Sarah?” Tony croaks. “Jaime?”

      Happy nods once and slowly straightens out of his crouch, giving Tony a glimpse of two dark heads bent together just behind him, arms wrapped around each other and shaking. Tony makes a beeline towards them and pulls both of his children into his arms, hardly daring to relax until first Sarah and then Jaime have burrowed into his chest.

      “Za dalee, za dalee,” he whispers, first to Sarah and then to Jaime, his face half-buried in their ruined braids. “I’m here. It’s okay – you’re okay. Za dalee.”

      Sarah whimpers and pushes further into his arms. Jaime is silent.

      Tony takes in a deep, shuddering breath and lifts his head long enough to look for Happy. His chauffeur, his _friend_ , is currently enduring a ferocious lecture from Pepper even as she pulls him around and around to look over every inch of him in search of a scratch. There are several, and each one that she finds makes another line appear at the corners her eyes and mouth. Natalie is standing beyond them, arms curled around her waist with an awkwardness that seems entirely forced, her eyes staring at Tony with an unreadable intensity. She shifts into a more natural position when Tony moves closer to them all, hip braced against the ruined front of the car.

      “… whose car is that, Ms. Rushman?”

      She smiles, something sharp and dangerous and, for some ungodly reason, incredibly comforting. “The license plate said HAMR 1.”

      “ _Oh my God_.” Tony buries his head in the twins’ heads again, shoulders shaking in time with theirs while he tries to remind himself that this is _absolutely the wrong time and place to laugh_. “Oh, God, he’s going to sue me.”

      “Who’s going to sue?” Pepper snaps, hands currently curled around Happy’s bright-red cheeks.

      “No one, Ms. Potts,” Natalie calls out before Tony draw in enough air to speak again. “How is Mr. Hogan?”

      “I’m absolutely fine, okay? Stop hovering – stop – Jesus, how do we get off of this track?”

      “I think walking is our only option,” Pepper grumbles. She hesitates and glances over at Tony, still clutching two trembling three-year-olds to his chest like lifelines. “Are they okay?”

      “We’re hungry,” Jaime croaks, voice just loud enough to carry over the sirens and the shouting and his sister’s frantic breathing. “We want ice cream. Chocolate.”

      “I thought you hated chocolate, jitterbug,” Tony mused, voice catching with relief at hearing his son’s voice again.

      “It’s Sarah’s favorite,” Jaime replies simply. “An’ Ms. Rushman said that girls need chocolate to survive.”

      Tony blinks once, twice, and slowly turns his head to raise a skeptical eyebrow at Natalie, who meets his eyes with a challenging stare of her own.

      “I’m sure we can find chocolate ice cream somewhere around here,” he says carefully, not missing the way Sarah tenses and carefully lifts her head at his words. “What do you think, beautiful?”

      She nods once, giving Tony a glimpse of red-rimmed chocolate eyes before they disappear again.

      “Alright, that’s settled. Onward, my loyal subjects! We seek chocolate ice cream, and lots of it.”

      He endures Pepper’s eye-roll at his antics and Happy’s tired grin, watches Natalie’s lips twitch around a repressed smile and carries the twins in his arms until long after he’s lost feeling in both.

      Eventually, after the track disappears behind them and Pepper has herded them all into a small, relatively-empty ice cream parlor several blocks away, the twins leave Tony’s embrace in exchange for gleaming ice cream cones. They huddle close to first Tony, then Happy and then Pepper, Sarah’s small fist curled all the while around a piece of Natalie’s jacket.

      Both children notice when Tony slips outside but do not comment, their dark eyes sharp and watchful through the glass windows of the shop while Tony pulls the nearest policeman aside.

      “The man who attacked me,” he murmurs. “Where did you take him?”

      “The station,” the man tells him hesitantly. “It is only temporary, until he is transferred.”

      “Take me there.”


End file.
